The past weekend I attended Eeyore’s birthday party. This is
an old Austin tradition, sort of a low key hippie party at Pease Park, and one
of the few remaining ‘totally free’ events in Austin. It’s marketed as part
of that over-hyped Austin weirdness.
But it shouldn’t be weird. It should be normal.
People hanging out in the park together on blankets or
hammocks. Strumming guitars or pounding drums. People playing with soap bubbles
and hula hoops and hacky-sacks. People spontaneously dancing. People eating and
drinking. People wearing creative, colorful, fun clothes. People baring their
skin to the breeze on a hot day. People painting and decorating each other. People living with joy.
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| Photo by Deborah K Coley |
A friend of mine snapped this picture of me there. I’ve had more
flattering pictures, but I love this one because it’s so much me. Broad
shoulders, wild hair blowing in the wind, standing square, laughing.
Several people said I was brave.
Brave for wearing my own skin?
If it is brave for a woman to take off her shirt in a public
place, what does that say about our society? Is it brave to show your imperfect
body because other people might judge it? Is it brave to show your body because
other people might assault it?
The only real danger I faced was sunburn, and for that I
have Coppertone.
A woman walked up to me and shyly asked “Is it okay to be
topless here?”
“Yes,” I told her. “And not just here, but anywhere. In
Texas it is legal.”
She turned towards me, away from the crowd, and pulled off
her shirt. Her torso was covered in swirls of purple, blue, and white paint,
decoration she had meticulously created. But she needed someone to give her
permission to show it. Someone brave. Someone like the woman in this picture,
with broad shoulders and wild hair.
I don’t feel brave right now. In a world rushing towards
climate catastrophe and authoritarianism, I am terrified of so many things.
But not of myself.
